Dreams Of Past, Present And Future
by haveyouseenmyhaggis
Summary: When the Sheriff decides to place a tax on Christmas, it's up to the gang to try and find a solution. Will Djaq's potion to control the Sheriff's dreams really work? Will stories of Christmases past, present and future really change his mind?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Dreams Of Past, Present And Future**

**Summary: When the Sheriff decides to place a tax on Christmas, it's up to the gang to try and find a solution. Will Djaq's potion to control the Sheriff's dreams really work? Will stories of Christmases past, present and future really change his mind?**

**Author's Note: For day four of my advent calendar, this chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Maple! Happy Christmas and I hope you enjoy this story! This is based on the wonderful classic story _A Christmas Carol _by Charles Dickens. Enjoy, everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Robin Hood BBC. **_

* * *

"I hate Christmas time," the Sheriff moaned loudly as he watched snow fall outside the window, blanketing the world in a soft white cover. He scowled as each flake landed and with every passing moment the lines of the frown got more and more pronounced on his face.

"But my lord, surely you can use it to your advantage? Turn the festivities to some use to you?" Sir Guy of Gisbourne reasoned dryly as he watched the older man glaring out of the window.

There was a moment of silence before the Sheriff turned around to face Guy with a smirk on his face, "Indeed! I do believe you're right! We could curb the celebrations! We could make this beneficial to ourselves! You are a genius my friend!" He clapped the leather-clad Guy on the shoulder and hurried out of the room with an evil grin. He was practically bouncing when he found the guards he was looking for outside the door.

"My lord," the two men bowed formally and awaited their orders.

"I want you to round up your men," the Sheriff ordered, "And go down to every village in Nottinghamshire tomorrow morning. Go to each house and tax each person."

The looks of shock and horror were badly disguised by the guards. The tall burly man on the right gaped mutely. The other said, "But what shall we tell the people, my lord?" Christmas was definitely not a time for taxes!  
"Tell them…" the Sheriff pondered for a moment, "That we must keep the country strong and great over the festive period when defences will be lower. Even though the King is away, this is no reason for us to get weak and complacent. In order to remain powerful, we need money. They are doing their bit for the country by paying us!" He smiled to himself, proud of his plan. Guy laughed gently from the doorway while the guards nodded slowly and turned to leave. The news they brought to their colleagues was not going to be gladly received, especially as tomorrow was Christmas day.

* * *

Meanwhile, temperatures in the forest were freezing and the gang were huddled close to the fire trying to keep warm. Dry sticks were hard to come by so they'd gathered up what they could and kept them hidden in the cave they were currently residing in.

"I'm cold," Much sighed miserably. There was a general murmur of agreement from the group.

"But there's nothing we can do about it," Djaq said bracingly, "We'll be all right. Will should be back soon with some food and then we can eat."

Robin nodded, "Djaq's right. We'll be fine."

Nobody spoke for a long time; they all just watched the fire and tried to gain as much warmth from it's flickering tongues as they could. An interruption in the silence came when Will Scarlett rushed into the cave, rosy cheeked from the cold and breathing heavily. "The Sheriff!" he gasped, "He's putting a tax on Christmas!"

"What?" Robin exclaimed, his eyes widening as he jumped to his feet and hurried over to the other man by the mouth of the cave.

"He's sending guards to all the villages to collect money "to keep the country strong,"" Will explained quickly, walking over to the fire to try and warm up for a moment.

"We need to do something, Robin!" Much cried, outraged. It was clear that he, like everyone else, was furious at how someone could be so cold-hearted as to turn something so special into a reason to make people suffer. The Sheriff had sunk to new depths murky depths in all their minds.

"I know," Robin agreed with a frustrated frown. "We could go and ambush them when they make the collections. When will that be?"

"Tomorrow morning," Will said quietly, staring into the fire.

"Right, well," Robin began before he was interrupted.

"I have a plan," Djaq said with a sly grin, "I know how to make a solution that will open his mind up while he's asleep. It'll make him more susceptible to dreams. All we need to do is make him inhale the fumes and then sit by his bed and tell a story…"

"A story?" Allan scoffed incredulously, "I'm not being funny but I'm not reading the Sheriff any bedtime stories."  
"I'm not being funny," Much mocked under his breath, "But you can't even read!"

Just before an argument broke out, Djaq continued, "No, we sit and talk about the consequences of what he's doing! His mind will play it all out and he might reconsider what he's doing! He'll feel so involved in these dreams that when he wakes he'll be convinced they were real!"

"That'll never work," Much said, "The Sheriff doesn't even have a conscience."

"Trust me!" Djaq urged, "I've seen similar things work on men worse than the Sheriff."

Robin considered this for a moment and then nodded, "All right, let's do it."

Moments later, Djaq was busily preparing her solution and ordering the gang around to find ingredients she needed. They had a very long night ahead of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This is dedicated to Soapy, whom is totally awesome! Hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

Robin hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out if the Sheriff really was asleep. He'd managed to infiltrate the castle with Djaq and the two guards outside the door were lying unconscious on the floor at his feet. He pushed the door open slightly and listened intently. Concluding from the slow pace of the older man's breathing that he was indeed fast asleep, the outlaw turned and beckoned to Djaq, whom was waiting some distance back clutching a small bottle to her chest as though it was the most precious thing in the world.

"You sure this is going to work?" Robin asked.

"It should do," Djaq nodded confidently, "I've seen it done several times and it's always worked perfectly for what they wanted it to do." Robin smiled and then pushed the heavy wooden door open further and crept inside, followed closely by Djaq. The Sheriff was sprawled on his back on the bed, his head to one side.

The two outlaws looked at each other and smirked before sneaking the edge of his bed and crouching down.

"Ready?" Djaq asked.

"Yes," Robin said determinedly. Djaq unscrewed the bottle and held it under the Sheriff's nose. He sniffled and grunted in his sleep but there was no doubt that he'd inhaled the fumes.

"All right," Djaq said, "You can go."

Robin took a deep breath and launched into a impromptu speech designed to change the Sheriff's mind about taxing Christmas.

_The Sheriff was suddenly taken by surprise as his dream suddenly morphed in to something completely unexpected. He recognised the scene immediately and it frightened him. He wanted to turn his face away and run. He didn't want to see this. He didn't. _

_"Happy Christmas, Vaisey!" said the tall woman with long blonde hair tied back in a ribbon – a new ribbon in fact. It was a gift from the woman's husband, Vaisey's father, as a Christmas present. _

_"Thank you!" the little boy, no older than seven years of age, said with a big grin as he hugged his parents in turn. _

_The Sheriff found he was standing in the corner of the room looking in on the scene. He was like a ghost; unseen and unheard. He took a tentative step forward towards the exchange like he was approaching an explosive. He couldn't mistake his childhood self or his parents. This wasn't a dream anymore. It was a memory. This had all actually happened to him once upon a time. He had been happy with his family when he was seven. Everything had been much simpler back then. Not that he wasn't happy ruining lives and destroying families now but something he missed was his parents and sister. _

_Suddenly, a familiar voice resounded in his head, "Would you take this away from other people, Vaisey?" Robin Hood. He spun around quickly but was faced simply by a solid wall made of stones and mud. Hood was here somewhere though. "Really, Vaisey, you used to be a happy kid, didn't you?" _

_The Sheriff didn't answer. He just looked at the little scene. A little girl came bounding into the room happily and hugged her parents tightly, "Happy Christmas mummy! Daddy!" _

_"Happy Christmas, love," their father said with a smile. Something squirmed in the Sheriff's stomach. He'd tried to compensate for his own feelings of loss by hurting others. _

_"You could let other people have this happiness," Robin Hood's voice said almost tauntingly. _

_"But I don't want to!" the Sheriff snorted bitterly as he watched the four people sit down around the fire in the centre of the room and his mother began to cook dinner. Did he really not want to though? It had been so long since he'd been loved like he had been when he was a child. Maybe he'd feel better letting others enjoy their Christmas?_

_"It would be good," Robin said, "You'd be doing a lot of people a favour. And saving yourself a lot of hassle from me. If you tax Christmas, I'll have to stop you." That annoyed him. He growled in annoyance but suddenly the memory was gone and sleep was upon him again but his dreams were disturbed by thoughts of Christmases many years in the past. _

Robin turned to Djaq and grinned. "I think that went quite well."

"Yeah," Djaq nodded, "But we'll find out for sure later. Do you want to do it again?"

"I do," the outlaw confirmed, watching the sleeping Sheriff cautiously. They'd be in trouble should he wake but something told him he wouldn't. He had every faith that the plan would work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas Lollzie! I hope you enjoy this and that you have a totally awesome Christmas!**

* * *

_The Sheriff's dream morphed into something new yet again. It took him a moment to figure out where he was and upon the realisation he was standing in the little village of Locksley, he groaned. The village looked exactly as it had done last time he'd seen it. There was snow on the ground now though He was aware that although this seemed very real, he was unnoticed and unfeeling in this scene. He couldn't feel the cold of the snow against his skin or the bite of the wind on his face. Several peasants were outside trying to carry on with their work despite the weather. He wrinkled his nose in disgust; how he hated the poor. He thought they were pathetic. _

_"Mummy!" a small boy laughed as he hurried past holding a large ball of snow. "Look at this! I bet I can throw this all the way over there!" With his free hand the boy pointed to somewhere at the other edge of the village. The woman who was folding up cloths smiled at her son but didn't reply. She had too much on her mind the Sheriff guessed. But then again, peasants were simple people. _

_"Is it really Christmas tomorrow, Mummy?" the boy asked as he threw the snowball hard. _

_"Yes, dear," his mother nodded._

_"I can't wait!" the boy said laughing._

_His mother looked at him sadly and sighed dejectedly. "That's if we're allowed to celebrate this year," she whispered to herself._

_The Sheriff was taken by surprise when Robin Hood's voice was in his head again, "Would you let that boy be let down? Really? Imagine it was you."_

_"Where are you, Hood?" the Sheriff demanded viciously, turning around to try and see the outlaw. When he looked, all he could see was the Nottinghamshire countryside. The only people as far as the eye could see were villagers working in the snow._

_"Christmas is the only hope these people have. Would you take that away? They're struggling enough as it is. If you tax Christmas they won't be able to pay any of your other taxes. Can't you give them Christmas without having to worry about money?" the outlaw was pleading with him, his voice urgent and hopeful. The Sheriff frowned and glared at the people as they carried on their work._

_"God wouldn't want Christmas taxed," a villager said to his friend as they walked passed struggling with a large wooden barrel between them. "This is blasphemy."_

_The other man, shorter and skinnier nodded in agreement, his face weary and sad, "I know. But it'll take God to stop the Sheriff from doing whatever he wants. We speak up, we won't even see Christmas."_

_The Sheriff thought it definitely wasn't their place to speak up against him. His say was final and they were his subjects so they'd just have to do what he wanted. They shouldn't object._

_"They can't pay any more, Vaisey," Robin said angrily in his mind, "They have nothing more to give. If this had happened when you were a kid, what would you have done? Huh?"_

_What would he have done? He didn't know. He would have been devastated. But still, that was no reason to give into the peasant's whining. He didn't care. He felt nothing for them. Nothing._

Robin watched the Sheriff sleeping with a strange look on his face. Djaq looked slightly concerned but she didn't say anything. She knew Robin was worried for the people of Locksley – his friends. If this didn't work, the people might not make it through Christmas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This is dedicated to Lizhi! Happy Christmas! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope things work out for you regarding uni and everything! Good luck! **

* * *

_The Sheriff was in for yet another shock when he found himself standing in the little village of Clun. He looked around warily, trying to locate Robin Hood whom was more than likely going to make an appearance soon. Seeing nothing but snow and shacks, he gave up the fruitless search and looked again at the village. He took a few steps forward and peered around the corner of a small house to his left. There was nobody to be seen._

_This puzzled the Sheriff because rarely did the peasants stop working. He frowned and walked to a house window, aware that he was a phantom in this familiar yet strange reality and invisible. The inches of snow at his feet didn't bother him in the slightest. Calmly he peered through the window into the small room inside. There was a fire in the centre of the room that appeared to have been extinguished for quite some time. _

_Confused, he began to explore the rest of the village. Each house he looked in was deserted. This certainly was strange. Eventually he found a child crouching inside her house looking afraid and upset. She was wringing her hands and whispering to the woman lying on the bed, "Mummy? Mummy, it'll be fine! Uncle Rod will be here soon. He'll take us to London, like he promised!" _

_Intrigued by the little girl and her mother's conversation, the Sheriff stood by their window and watched closely. The girl was crying now as the woman smiled weakly at her daughter. "I'm sure he will, dear. He'll be here soon."_

_"He'll make you better," the girl promised desperately, "He will!"  
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the Sheriff's musings. Robin Hood again, he sighed. The outlaw said, "Would you let this happen? Most of the village are dead, Vaisey, and the rest are dying!"_

_The Sheriff had already decided that replying would be pointless. He just watched the girl hold her mother's hand and cry gently. He couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling deep in his stomach however. Robin carried on, "They're dying because they can't afford to eat. You've taxed them so much for every little thing. Every celebration has been taxed and still you make them pay more and more." _

_Well, they were peasants, the Sheriff thought. They were under his command and it was their place. They should pay when he wanted them to. They should do what he said. They should obey him! What right had an outlaw to tell him what to do? _

_"Eventually there will be nobody left to pay your taxes," Robin said evenly. "They'll all have starved or fled because of what you've done to them. This is the future, Vaisey. This is what you're seeing now. This is what Christmas will be like soon. In the next few years, this will be Clun if you don't change. You won't have any villagers left to tax!" The outlaw spoke passionately but the Sheriff tried not to let it get to him. He didn't care about these people. He would stop them leaving if he could. He would get his money._

_"They have nothing left to give, Vaisey," Robin implored, "Nothing. They can't get money because nobody has any to spend. You're killing Nottinghamshire yourself. You won't be able to blame them when they're all dead."  
"Shut up!" Vaisey snarled furiously out loud. The woman and the girl didn't react and neither did the outlaw. He didn't speak again but the dream began to fade slowly into blackness…_

"It's time to go, Robin," Djaq said urgently to her leader. She stood up and began to make her way across the flagstone floor to the door at the other end of the room, tucking the empty bottle into her cloak. Robin nodded as he watched the Sheriff begin to stir in his sleep agitatedly. The outlaw got to his feet quickly and hurried after Djaq. His knees were still from crouching so long but he ignored this and slipped out of the door. The pair tore down the dark corridor and turned a corner just in time to hear the Sheriff holler "Gisbourne!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Like I said to Josie this morning, today is Christmas Eve's Eve's Eve. Wonderful! I'm really starting to feel the festive spirit especially as I'm ankle deep in snow here! It's awesome! Anyway, this final chapter is dedicated to Foxy! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and all the best for next year! Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story (mainly the RRA!) and added to their favourites list! I hope you all enjoyed the story and have a wonderful Christmas!**

* * *

The Sheriff was in a very strange mood the following morning. He'd had some really odd dreams the night before and they'd left him feeling confused and worried. He'd told Guy all about them when he'd woken up but the man had been unimpressed at being woken at such an hour and had returned to bed without providing much help.

The dreams had troubled him and certainly made him think. He glared out of his window at the snow-covered county and sighed. What should he do? He didn't want the people thinking he was growing soft. He certainly _wanted_their money but the dream of Nottingham in the future had troubled him greatly. What would happen when he had nobody left to tax? Christmas was a Christian celebration and he was sure he'd be sent straight to Hell if he tried to make it a money-spinner out of his own greed.

"Gisbourne?" he yelled, stalking away from the winter scene outside and heading towards the door.

As he expected, his right hand man appeared at the doorway to meet him, having heard his call from a little way down the corridor, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Call…" the Sheriff began with difficulty, "Gisbourne, I want you to… To. Call off." He seemed to be choking over his words and practically turning purple with the very effort.

"My Lord?" Gisbourne prompted, his brow furrowed. He could guess what was coming but he was surprised; the Sheriff he knew would never do something like call off a tax.

"The Christmas tax, Gisbourne!" the Sheriff emphasised, looking furious and more than a little pained.

"You want me to call off the tax because of a dream you had?"

"Y-Yes! It wasn't just a dream, Gisbourne, you dummy. It was a vision!" and with that the older man turned tail and stormed down the corridor in the direction of the dining hall. People leapt out of his way as he marched away, clearly worried what had upset him so much on Christmas day of all days.

* * *

"Robin! Robin!" Much cried as he ran down the forest track with Allan A Dale closely following him. The young outlaw was elated and skidded to a halt when he reached the cave, grinning widely.

Robin looked up from the fire he was stoking continuously trying to keep up the heat in the cave and upon seeing his friend's face, his heart skipped a beat; this must be good news! "What is it, Much?"

"The Sheriff called off the Christmas Tax!" Allan announced, arriving beside Much and slinging his arm around him. "He sent Gisbourne down to stop the men taking money!"

"It worked!" Robin laughed in disbelief as he jumped up and clapped Much and Allan on the back. He hugged Djaq whom was standing at the edge of the cave cutting up some meat for dinner.

"And Christmas is saved by Robin Hood," Djaq smiled broadly.

"We all did it," Robin replied, turning to the others and looking around at them proudly.

"But Robin," Will interrupted, "We _are _Robin Hood!"

There was a cheerful atmosphere in the camp that day with much laughter and even a beer that Allan had managed to smuggle from a Nottingham tavern. Christmas had truly been saved. All was well.


End file.
